Blog: Treasure Hunting in the Most Unlikely Places

I got hit with a double whammy coming into this world.

Not only was I born the youngest of five children, I was the only girl. Living in a household filled with Tonka trucks and testosterone proved too much even for my mother, who bailed when I was 2 years old.

Back in the 1960s, my dad thought it proper that I be raised genteel and lady-like, but all I really wanted to do was go to the dumps. 

While everyone else in our neighborhood had curbside garbage service, my family made monthly trips to the local landfill.

On Saturday morning, my dad and brothers would load up our bags of trash into the family car and head off, leaving me behind with the breakfast dishes. Arriving back home, they proudly displayed their treasures unearthed at the landfill. I think they sometimes came home with more than they had left with.

While they were gone, I would sneak out to the garage and gaze up at the entrance to the attic. Looking up towards the rafters, I could see discarded lampshades and dust covered boxes, which I was sure were filled with better loot than my brothers were finding at the dumps.

I was too scared to climb up into the attic. I was warned that just one misstep could send me crashing through the gypsum board flooring to the room below. Turns out, there was truth to that parental scare tactic. My brother found out the hard way that the fastest exit out of the attic was through the living room ceiling.

Years later, my first trip to the dumps proved disappointing. Instead of finding treasure, I just found a lot of smelly trash. But what the dumps lacked, the attic made up for.

When I finally made my first climb into the attic, it was like stepping back in time.

As I opened the nearest boxes, I discovered not only my childhood dolls, but also my brother's Lionel train set. Looking further, I found boxes containing relics of my father's past; a cast iron toy bus from the 1930s, a tin wind-up monkey, and a case of 78 rpm records.

Digging deeper, I unearthed items from my grandmother's day. Family letters and photographs dated from the 1800s were carefully packed between handmade quilts and an antique wedding gown.

I often wondered why I was born a girl in a household of boys. I thought I had missed out on finding buried treasure when I couldn't go scavenging at the dumps.

Now I realize that I was destined to unearth the greatest treasure of all – my family history.